Hanging
by Nucleophile
Summary: One foot. That was the distance between him and the ground. Yet why, WHY, did the fall seem so much worse? He had the gear, a military issue weight-distribution belt affixed to his body, and a testing tripod to boot. His job? Remain upright. Remain fucking upright.- dramatized/expanded novelization of episode 3; slight Eren x Mikasa fluff


**Hanging**

by Nucleophile

T for language and brief violence

* * *

One foot. That was the distance between his feet and the ground. Yet why, _why_, Did the fall seem so much worse?

It began so subtly, the irregular grate of the winches grinding the iron cables upward, pulling taut as they began to counteract the weight of his body. Then he would rise, first to his tiptoes before transitioning to full suspension.

His job? Remain upright. Remain _fucking_ upright.

Eren gritted his teeth in frustration as he felt the familiar pull on the weight-distribution belt affixed to his body. His fierce green eyes flashed with resolve as his heels left the ground.

_I won't fail this time… I won't fail this time_, he silently repeated, thrusting his arms out in preparation.

His sights steeled upon the horizon, he felt his toes leave the ground. This was it… Calmly, he spread his legs ever so slightly, preparing to distribute his weight evenly about his hips just as was practiced so many times before. Green eyes narrow with concentration.

_I won't fail this time… I won't fail this time… I won't –_

WHAP!

An aching head and a mouth full of sand announces his return to the dry silt of the training ground. His eyes flick hesitantly open, and she breathes a silent sigh. He doesn't see.

"EREN!" her shorter companion cries.

"I'm fine, I'm Fine!" an upside-down Eren grunts, bobbing up and down. Her grip around the scarf, _his scarf_, tightens. He's clearly not.

Raising a hand to his brow, he grimaces.

"You're bleeding again, aren't you?"

He doesn't answer. She wasn't expecting him to. He winces as she squats down next to her entangled companion, calmly brushing his hand away before planting a dry piece of cloth over the weeping wound. He stiffens, avoiding her gaze, his face a frozen mask of anger, frustration and… shame.

There are so many things she could say right now: technique tips, another lecture, hell, even the truth about how she feels about… Then again, he'd never listen. He never does…

The sun begins to dip below the mountains surrounding the grounds, bathing the three in its waning light. Time is running out.

Silence. Hours of theory and half-baked pep talks by a stuttering Armin have been fruitless. Her gaze narrows, emotions hidden behind a scarlet weave. Words will not save her Eren, only action.

"Armin…" he finally calls, empty eyes locked upon the parched soil, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let me down."

Lowering his head, Armin releases the winch, his expression hidden by a ragged veil of flaxen hair. How many attempts has it been again? The boy's run out of theories.

"I-It's just the way you distribute the weight about the full-body belt," he stammers as Eren's limp body strikes the dusty ground. " The key is using your legs to steady yourself, see? I personally flex my ankles once I'm airborne to make sure that my shins are engaged. That way, my center of mass_–"_

His speech is cut short as his companion rises to his feet, locking the timid scholar in a gaze of jagged jade that cuts right through him. His nose is bleeding, his lip is cut in several places, and line of fresh blood slowly tricks its way past his brow. Yet his eyes spark with a resolve Armin has failed to fathom despite over a decade of friendship: a spark men could follow…a spark he could follow… a spark she's been following for over decade.

"Again."

* * *

"Jaeger! What the HELL do you think you're doing?" The bald man shouts, squatting down next to the stunned cadet.

"P-Practicing… sir!"comes his stupid reply, his left arm curling across his chest in a half-assed salute attempt— the best his confused senses and throbbing head can offer.

"PRACTICING?" the aging officer shouts, leaving the boy little time to contemplate his injuries as he grabs a fistful of the his hair, yanking the stunned cadet upright. "DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME?"

Echoing with the booming vocals of an enraged Keith, the grounds fall silent.

"Think hard, Jaeger," he growls at the squirming cadet. "You aren't here to practice. You are here to become a soldier. A fucking soldier. Do you think I feed you worthless shits just so you can practice? HELL! I feed you because you are soldiers. But if you can't even remain upright, you're not a soldier, you're shit."

"Sir—"

"SHIT, JAEGER!" he roars.

From her dangling perch, she sees the whole thing. She hears Keith's tirade, and she watches Eren, _her Eren_, his eyes wide, mouth agape in wordless shock. Her grasp on the scarf tightens.

There must be some mistake…

Wordlessly, she glances to her right, where the potato girl rocks back and forth with wide-eyes, the corner of her mouth still littered with crumbs from the morning meal as she releases a hearty belch, blushing as she does. Mikasa's eyes narrow with annoyance.

_Even Sasha can manage this… _

Disbelief turns to hard acceptance as Keith turns and releases his grip on Eren's scalp, not even glancing backward as the boy's head connects with the ground once again.

"I don't work with shit, people…" he grumbles to nobody. "Shit is for the landfills. God knows we're already low on food."

* * *

_I won't fail this time… I won't fail this time… I won't fail this time… I—_

WHAP!

"Eren!"

_Don't worry Armin, I won't fail this time… won't fail this time… won't—_

WHAP!

_Won't fail this time… fail this time… I… _

WHAP!

_Fail… won't… I… this time… won't…_

Whump.

Her hands set upon his shoulders, steadying his teetering form with deceptive strength. With a start, Eren flashes to his senses.

_Why did she end up being the strong one?..._

"You…" he growls. "Get o—"

Her grip tightens, silencing him.

"That's enough."

"Enough?" he shouts indignantly. "Did you not hear Keith? I'm not even _considered_ for soldier work until I can stay upright! Do you want me carted off to the landfills?"

_No! Of course not, but…_

Her gaze softens slightly, not that he'd notice.

"Eren…" she begins, raising her eyes to his. "That's not my decision to make."

"But—" he begins as her expression hardens.

"Nor is it yours…"

"YOU—" his retort is cut short, the flow of words strangled within his throat.

_Am I still too weak?...Is that all I'll ever be?..._

Defeated, he lowers his head, his eyes obscured by a mop of obsidian fibers, unable to face neither the gravity of the situation nor the hardness of her expression. If only he knew how it hurt her to say such things.

Behind a façade of stone, she crumbles.

_Why did I have to end up being the strong one?…_

"Damn," he grunts, while she turns towards their silent (and admittedly awkward) companion.

"Armin, let him down."

The familiar dry grind of the winches echoes across the empty grounds. Slowly, she turns. They're all late for dinner. God help them if Keith finds out.

"No."

A familiar warmth catches her wrist, his hand catching hers in an iron grip, filling her…

_Eren…_

"One more time."

She turns to face him, once again breathing in his broken and bloody features.

"One more time," he repeats.

She sighs, a slight nod ruffling her glossy locks. "One more time."

* * *

_"Yo, isn't that the same scrub who couldn't keep upright on the 3DMG test today? Serves him right, cocky prick…"_

_"Yo Jean, check out Jaeger. That look man, that look…"_

_"Priceless, Connie, priceless…"_

_"Boy's got the look of a dead man... poor kid… kind of had it coming though…."_

_"Don't blame him, if the embarrassment doesn't kill him, the landfills will. They always do, eventually..." _

"Eren."

Once again, her fingers tighten around his shoulder, her steel grip jolting back to the table.

"Don't let them get you down, Eren," assures Armin, not looking up from his soup. "Some people just need more time to get it right. You'll get it tomorrow, I'm sure. Heck, I hear that's how Commander Erwin of the Recon Corps did it…"

His words fall on deaf ears, their intended recipient picking at his meal with a hollow gaze.

"Pathetic…" he mumbles.

Her grip loosens.

"How can I hope to exterminate them, those… those… _monsters_ like this?"

"Give up on it," she begins, staring at her own plate.

The clatter of steel against ceramic reverberates across the table as he slams down his fork.

"What did you say?" he breaths.

"Give up on it," she repeats, refusing… no, _unable_ to face him. Not like this…

"Mikasa…"

"Throwing away your life is not the only way to fight."

"Come on, you've seen what they do. What they're capable of. You think I'd be content not facing them directly?"

"I know, but your feelings are irrelevant in this situation."

"Mikasa…"

She can feel his eyes burning into the side of his head, but she must continue. He needs to know…

"As I said earlier, the ability to become a soldier is not just some decision you can make."

"BUT—"

She turns to face him, ready to bear the brunt of his frustration… his agony. She must. After all, she's supposed to be the strong one…

"What if you died without making a difference?" she asks, her voice a broken whisper. " What about those you'd leave behind, all those you'd abandon? What about Armin?... What about me?"

He doesn't reply, instead staring ahead with that same expression of piggish determination she knows so well. Was she even expecting him to listen? If only…

"I'm not saying you'll have to return to the landfills alone," she continues, her gaze now affixed upon her bowl as she fiddles with her silverware, not noticing him getting up. The bowl is still warm, just like him...

"Don't worry, if it comes to that…" she finishes turning to face him, chancing a smile. "I'll come with you."

He's gone, and her slanted eyes widen with surprise as she's slapped with a face-full of Sasha Blouse.

"Uh…erm…" the potato girl mumbles, a hand clutching her stomach, ravenous eyes fixed on the uneaten remains of Mikasa's ration.

"You, uh, gonna eat that?"

* * *

"It's late, you know…" she whispers, as the soft creaks of the cabin porch floor boards signal his return.

In a flash, his green eyes widen with surprise before narrowing with recognition.

"You shouldn't be here."

She doesn't answer, her gaze locked on the moon.

"Where's Armin?"

"With Reiner and Bertolt," he replied, leaning up against one of the wooden beams. "We went up to the lake to relax… clear our heads before the exam tomorrow. God knows we needed it... I sure did."

Her eyes narrow.

"I don't trust those two…"

He shrugs, staring up at the moon.

"You don't trust anybody."

"I trust you"

He grunts in acknowledgement.

"Anyway, they seem like nice guys. It's probably just you…"

The arms folded across her chest tighten. "Perhaps…"

A slow cloud creeps across the night sky, veiling the moon and cloaking the two in darkness.

"How's your head?"

"Fine," he mumbles, gingerly poking at the linen covering his forehead.

"Hmm," she mumbles in approval, nodding in the silence. To her right, she hears the rails of the porch creak as he comes to rest beside her.

_Just like when we were younger..._

"What does it feel like?"

She turns to face him, confused.

"You know," he asks. "Hanging there"

"Oh…" she sighs, loosening her folded arms.

Hanging… That's right; she'd been so focused on his falling she'd almost forgotten. Lips—thin, delicate, veiled in darkness— curl upward.

"Eren..," she whispers. "Have you ever wondered if… you know, there's something after this… after life?"

_Tall as a house, emaciated, jowls twisted up in a twisted grin, the broken form of his squirming mother trapped in its grip… One after the other, her fists beat at the monster's hand. It's grip tightened… tightened… tightened…_

"Yes," he grunted, tearing eyes snapped shut. "Yes I do…"

She nodded, stretching her arms. "That's what it feels like."

"Death?" he mumbles. "That morbid, huh?"

"No, not death…_after_ it…" she whispers. "There's no restriction, no weight to keep you on the ground… I feel like… like I can go anywhere… like I can do anything. That's what I think my parents felt like… like what Mrs. Jaeger felt like… a peaceful release from the agonies of reality—"

The tip of her fingers brushed his hand. Realization strikes her like a bolt of lightning, her hand recoiling instinctively from his touch. Holding hands was fine when they were younger, but now? He might as well have been a burning stove…

"Um…"

Stumbling backwards off the porch, she winces as the moonlight illuminates her blushing features for a flash instant before she once again dons her stony mask. He watches on, a look of confusion plastered across his bruised features, clearly oblivious to his companion's plight.

"You okay?"

Her gaze hardens. "Yeah… Just fine…I'd better get to bed… Wouldn't want Keith to catch me up after lights out by the male cabins…"

He nods, turning to enter his quarters.

"That good, huh?" he asks over his shoulder, prompting her to pause mid-gait. "You know… hanging there?"

"Yes…" she whispers.

His brow furrows.

"Maybe one day, I'll be able to feel as you feel."

She stops, turning to face him.

_Does he really mean…_

Her hopefulness drops as a grimace sets his face alight with pain.

"Unless I get condemned to the landfills… I guess that's a weight I'll bear when it comes… A weight I'll bear alone…"

She lowers her gaze, kicking at a stone by her feet as his words hang in the air. Without a word, he slips back into the darkness of the cabin, closing the door behind him.

"You're wrong, Eren" she whispers, confident that he doesn't hear. "As long as I live, you'll never be alone."

* * *

One foot. That was the distance between him and the ground. But, why, _why_ did he feel so free? Hesitation turns to surprise. Surprise turns to pride. Pride turns to jubilation.

_You were right, Mikasa… There's no restriction, no weight to keep you on the ground… I feel like… like I can go anywhere… like I can do anything..._

A loud whoop and twin arms outstretched, as if to embrace the sun itself, announce his arrival to weightlessness.

_I did it._

From the crowd, the impassive drill sergeant Keith looks onward with a hooded gaze, nodding in silent approval. In his rough hands is an old harness and belt.

"As suspected, Jaeger, your weight-distribution belt was defective. I didn't even know these parts could be broken. I guess I'll have to add this to the maintenance list…"

"_The man managed to upright himself on defective gear? That's absurd!"_

_"Definitely Grisha's son, God bless his soul…"_

_"So Jean, does this mean Eren really wasn't just all piss and high-talk?"_

_"Shut up, Connie! Shut up!"_

Yet Eren has no ears for such murmurs and trifles, his gaze searching for the one person in the crowd…

_Mikasa! _

Bearing his teeth in a triumphant grin, he nods to his adopted sibling.

_Look hard, girl. I'm growing stronger. I don't need you protect me any more!_

"I'll bet he's smiling because he's happy he's not getting left behind," a grinning Armin remarks.

Even Mikasa allows herself a slight smile.

"No, he's smiling because he knows we won't be separated."

* * *

**A/N**- Just a little thing that's been floating around in my mind ever since I watched episode 3 in the Anime. Kind of new to the fandom and was wondering what you guys think of my prose. :)

Best of luck in all your reading and writing endeavors,

Nucleophile


End file.
